Name: Dastan Hassansin
Age: 26 (looks) 6720 (actual)
Family: parents ~ Iman† & Darya† || Siblings ~ Kambiz, Leila, Mirza, Arya, Azar, Bahar
Species: Blooded Vampire Rank: Bastion - Persian
Faceclaim: Avan Jogia

Family is loyalty and loyalty is honor.

The Hassansin clan has operated under this credo since their first ancestor was gifted by the gods, their steadfast belief served as the solid foundations for both their operations as a family and within their race. Each member serves with the higher purpose of bringing great honor to both themselves as an individual and to the Vampire name. They have ever availed the King with complete conviction in their purpose and served as a guiding light even in the darkest of times. Of the utmost integrity the Hassansin’s are well known for their dignity which is only eclipsed perhaps by the vast size of their family.

Dastan was born one of seven children to Darya and Iman Hassansin, both of which were one of 7 and 8 respectively, therefore he was constantly surrounded by family. With aunts and uncles and cousins and siblings abounding Dastan grew up with a well established penchant for laughter and a ready acceptance of individual differences that made each person unique. With the size of their family it was no wonder that the Hassansin’s covered a variety of roles within the Vampire community, putting their collective finger in many pies so to speak, though being born the oldest to a Bastion Dastan’s fate was sealed even before he drew his first breath.

Darya was the fifth Hassansin Bastion to serve the line of King’s, her father having retired early in order to care for his children after the death of his beloved wife. Darya was ever a calm and steady presence among her colleagues and was well known for playing the devil’s advocate. Her sharp mind and accepting personality allowed her to look at every situation from many angles providing information on many different outcomes. It was an asset that King Varian relied heavily upon and one he pressed her to pass on to her son, though Darya had no fear in that sector.

Dastan was brought up in a home of mixed heritage, many of his aunts and uncles were Turned vampires who had wed into the family and he even had a cousin or two who were Turned and adopted into the family. Likewise his family covered a vast array of different positions from his mother the Bastion to several cousins who were cooks, trappers, guards, seamstresses, cleaners, and jewelers. That Hassansin’s operated under the firm belief that no job was too small or too insignificant if done properly and there was great honor in a job well done. Even if that job was less than desireable or sneered upon by others.

Ever a precocious and curious child it became difficult for his parents to keep him inside, his thirst for knowledge driving him out into the world each night and only the threat of the sun drove him home each morning. His mind worked much the same as Darya’s his powers of observation nearly second to none and he asked numerous questions of everyone. With not a shy bone in his body he would often be found walking into businesses and offices and even homes to ask questions of anyone he came into contact with. It became a running joke within their neighborhood that you needed to keep your doors locked less you find yourself in the middle of a Dastan inquisition.

Eventually Darya found it necessary to take Dastan with her on Bastion business, introducing him to the King at the tender age of 8. From that first moment Dastan became a fixture at meetings, at his mother’s side, and at audiences with the King. Varian found the child enchanting taking time to patiently answer all queries that were posed, amazed at the incite and understanding that the child exhibited. Amazingly enough the occupation served to curb Dastan’s wanderlust and curiosity fully occupying his mind to the point of utter calm. Furthermore he was allowed to spend time with the other Bastion and the young Prince who immediately began training him, so that both his body and his mind were thoroughly worked out on a daily basis.

His first impressions of them all, through the filter of a young mind, was one of slight intimidation and awe. Gideon at that point, being nearly 300 years old, was a massive male in both height and stature. His prowess as a warrior set him up as a figure of hero worship in the young male’s mind and he strove to be just like Gideon. Delilah was an enchanting yet distant beauty that proved to be an adept teacher when it came to hand to hand combat. Dastan enjoyed talking with Cecilia as the silver tongued female was equally observant and witty which entertained the child to no end. It was Idris who fully took the young future Bastion under his wing becoming a sort of older brother figure in the prestigious world they had all been born into.

For the next 100 years Dastan’s life was filled with both physical and mental challenges as he trained alongside his fellow Bastion in order to prepare for their eventual rise to power. His body became long and lean and powerful, his hand just as accustomed to holding short swords as they were with a pen. His mind worked constantly and he proudly lived up to his mother’s legacy as the voice of reason and sophist. His bond with both the Prince and the other Bastions grew as he cemented his place among them, holding each in high esteem, and though his family was a large part of him the Bastion became his primary family.

It was around his 102nd birthday that Dastan’s world shifted, his entire life derailed by a red head with a pair of frosty seaglass green eyes. He first met Lydia Bryant during one of their numerous Hassansin family gatherings and to say the beginning had been rough was an understatement. When his cousin Tessa had introduced them Dastan, ever the gallant gentlemen, had offered her a bow but when he had tried to take her hand as was custom she snubbed him in the rudest way possible. Tessa had explained that Lydia and her brother Lyle were recently Turned vampires brought into the community for protection and were finding some of the racial divides difficult to handle.

Lydia and Lyle were both highly talented and vastly accomplished musicians with voices that would have made the angels themselves jealous. They had been gypsy’s of a sort in life, apart of a traveling band that performed for their livelihood when the land itself couldn’t provide. The siblings had been turned by a rogue who had become smitten with Lydia and hoped that in turning her he could lay claim to her. She managed to convince him to turn her brother as well and then together they had fled from him, wounding the rogue enough to get a head start. The King’s justice had found the rogue and then located his sired young in which case the siblings had been given two options: return to the Vampire stronghold and submit to the rule and protection of the King or be destroyed.

The newly Turned Vampires had been more than happy to join the greater populace of their new species but hadn’t been expecting the vast amount of prejudice that would come their way because of their status. Neither of them could find work as musicians and were forced into manual labor in order to survive. Lyle was trained in combat and given a post as a city guard while Lydia was given work as a housekeeper to a prominent Blooded family working alongside Dastan’s cousin Tessa.

The forced subjugation had soured Lydia’s opinion of all Blooded Vampires therefore despite her friendship and respect for Tessa she was openly hostile towards his family. This did not sit well with Dastan and quickly ignited a temper that neither he nor his family even knew existed. By the end of the gathering Dastan found himself stalking out with an acute disgust for the female. Likewise Lydia had set herself to hating the Bastion, her mind using him as the universal symbol of the sect that were suppressing her natural talents simply because of an incident that was beyond her control.

For the better part of the next several decades the two of them fought and argued and hated one another, unable to get past the stalemate or even be in the same room together because of their shared stubbornness and pride. Tessa tried valiantly to mend the rift between the two for it put a great strain on her that her best friend couldn’t accept her family or that her favorite cousin was so staunchly against her choice in company. Dastan would not be swayed from his anger any more than Lydia could be persuaded to see sense, leading to some rather awkward encounters. It was Darya who came up with the solution, slyly coaxing Tessa into insisting she and Lydia attend the public audiences that were held often.

Lydia wasn’t much interested in the proceedings at first, completely nonplussed as to why anyone would want to watch the heads of the establishment lord their power over those they considered inferior beings. Slowly however, her negative opinion was whittled away to nothing as she watched Dastan work among the Bastion. Grudgingly she had to admit that he was astute in his observations, looking at every problem and issue from all possible angles before presenting his Prince with his solid advice. It became blatantly clear that the male wasn’t the least bit prejudiced against those who were Turned, in fact he was often an avid advocate among his peers.

At last Lydia was forced to admit that she had been wrong, approaching Dastan to offer her sincerest apology and begging that he allow her to wipe the slate clean so that they might start fresh. Ever the honorable gentlemen he did so, initiating a clean break from the past giving birth to a deep and unbending bond. From that day on there was hardly another that passed that they weren’t together, sometimes spending time around his family and sometimes strolling along the streets of the Capital chatting and enjoying one another’s company. Upon the firm foundation of that friendship a tender love bloomed, the pair of them developing a strong attachment over time.

Dastan felt very strongly for Lydia, his love and adoration for her unquestionable but he found himself gunshy when it came to locking her down. Tensions between the sects were growing, skirmishes and arguments breaking out on a daily basis. Both himself and Lydia were under harsh scrutiny for their close association which irked him greatly, though it was Idris who finally convinced him to bite the bullet and pop the question. Lydia of course was ecstatic accepting the proposal wholeheartedly, much to the delight of the entire Hassansin clan. It was to be a long engagement in order to give them proper time to plan the wedding, which was a must considering a Bastion of the Prince was tying the knot.

Unfortunately things were slow with the planning, constantly pushed to the back burner as the divide between the Blooded and the Turned widened. Dastan began to be called away more frequently and for longer periods of time in order to serve his Prince which put a strain on his relationship with his fiancee. Lydia became increasingly distant and quiet, spending more and more time with her brother who it also seemed was neglecting his wife. There was nothing the Bastion could do about it however, his first duty was to his Prince and his loyalty in that sector was absolute. In the days leading up to the blackest time in Vampire history Dastan would reflect for centuries afterward that he should have known something was amiss.

Lydia had gone from being distant to missing completely, her disappearance just beginning to worry him when the first screams of distress had echoed out across the capital. Confusion reigned supreme as people scrambled to figure out what was going on, Prince Gideon dispatching a contingent of soldiers lead by Idris to investigate. That was the most intense hour of his life, as more screams rent through the darkness as the coming dawn approached. Finally Idris returned but with horrifying news, they had all been betrayed and were under attack.

Things happened very quickly at that point as Gideon rallied his soldiers, expertly coordinating them with the finesse of a seasoned Commander. King Varian dogged his son’s every step, begging him to abandon his post and take refuge for by all accounts the traitors were coming for the royal family. Dastan knew before his dear friend said anything that he would refuse, a lot of things could be said about the Prince and the chiefest among them was that he loved his people. Unfortunately the King took the decision out of the Prince’s hand turning to Dastan and his fellow Bastions with an order that broke all of their hearts.

Idris glanced once at Dastan, the two sharing an understanding before moving to intercept a very angry Gideon. Together the two male Bastion’s managed to muscle their Prince deep into the castle where a safe room had been outfitted for just such a purpose. Delilah cleared their way, Cecilia brought along Iris while watching their backs, and Piotr trailed along the periphery until the next generation of Vampire leadership was safely locked inside the vault-like room until the moon next rose to release them. To say it was a long day would have been an understatement.

Every sound filtering in from the outside seemed magnified until it was all he heard, a never ending soundtrack of battle and agony and bloodshed. If what was going on outside the vault was bad what was going on inside of it was far worse. His long time friend, a male he looked up to greatly was suffering immensely and there was nothing any of them could do about it. Beneath their horrified gazes Gideon felt the moment his father, the King, died and the entirety of the race was passed on time him. From then on Gideon could feel every death that occurred making him a very dangerous, wounded animal.

As if things couldn’t get any worse sometime close to sunset Gideon’s steel grey eyes met Dastan’s and he would never forget the haunting anguish that made those eyes seem almost to glow. In rapid succession his family, that great and powerful dynasty of love and devotion and honor, was reduced to cinders. Heartbroken, Dastan worried over Lydia though the Prince...no, the King gave no indication that she had been killed and blessings be to the Gods he still had a couple cousins and a two siblings who had yet to pass away.

The moment the locks sprung on the vault the seven occupants all but sprang free. Under a silent understanding Delilah, Cecilia, Iris, and Piotr stayed with the King to protect him allowing Idris and Dastan free reign to head into the city to find their families. Dastan wasted not a moment, running full tilt through the maze of streets towards the neighborhood that his family occupied. On the way he met Lycans, humans, and the sect of Turned who had betrayed them by letting the enemy inside the gates close to dawn. He didn’t even bother to count the number of lives that fell prey to his short swords, cared not to even commit their faces to memory.

Skidding around the corner Dastan was met with a scene straight out of his worst nightmares. A large group of the enemy were clustered around the entrance to his family house, their shouts whipping into a frenzy as three small figures were dragged from the house. Moving with both stealth and speed he shifted position, his eyes landing upon his youngest sister Arya as she fought valiantly to protect her twin baby brother’s both of which were barely 10 years old. Brave little Arya stood between them and at least 20 enemies, however Dastan only saw one for the red hair crowning her head was unmistakable.

Without thinking he said her name out loud, drawing attention to himself which proved a fatal mistake. Overwhelmed and emotionally compromised Dastan was disarmed and taken to the ground, pinned beneath a press of Lycan bodies as Lydia herself looked on and did nothing. A human man emerged and thrust a weapon into his finacee’s slender hands, muscian’s hands, and demanded she dispatch the children. Convinced that she wouldn’t do such a thing, that her heart was too pure to murder children, that she as being forced into this situation Dastan tried to reason with the man desperately trying to convince him to let Lydia and the children go.

His entire body froze however, as Lydia turned, her once beautiful green eyes filled with so much hate it made him flinch away in horror. She stalked toward his siblings with a bloody blade clutched in her hand and murder written all over her face. Chaos erupted and Dastan thanked all the gods as Idris came flying in like a demon possessed, cutting through anything that happened to get in his path. He managed to free Dastan who immediately took up his blades and went looking for Lydia. Cutting through a few lycans he found little Arya, bleeding but alive having tried to protect her brothers from Lydia.

After tucking the little one away safely the Bastion went on the hunt, tracking down what little remained of his family and his heart. He found them a few moments too late, the sight of those little bodies would forever torment him and the guilt would never cease. Lydia watched dispassionately as he knelt by the broken shells that had once been his brothers and he barely heard her voice as she cursed him for a fool. She’d been shown the light, convinced once more that the Blooded were a cancer that needed to be purged for they would never consider the Turned their equals.

Enraged and beyond rational thought Dastan’s vision went red and in the blink of an eye he became a heartless killing machine. He advanced on Lydia and with his superior skills he cut out her heart and tossed it into a nearby fire, leaving her body to rot in the streets until the sun rose. Idris came upon his sometime later with little Arya in his arms and together they reconnected with their King and the other Bastions, spending the next several hours extricating the attackers from the Capital.

The months following the Great Betrayal passed in a blur of inquiries, inquisitions, and executions. Gideon rose to the throne and once all the Bastion’s had sworn allegiance the King set to the task of smoking out the traitors. Dastan forced himself into a mental numbness as he helped in the effort. Despite the species’s heavy losses the divide was wider than ever, the distrust having grown exponentially. With each passing day it became apparent that no matter who came before the counsel, if they were a Turned the cards were stacked against them.

The young Hassansin found himself facing an attack of conscience as he watched many of his people fall under great censure and abuse simply because of what they were. Unfortunately the Bastions suffered under their own losses and were thus not thinking straight which left Dastan between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand he had suffered just the same at the hands of a prejudiced Turned, his own Fiancee while on the other his own mother would have read him the riot act for letting the abuse continue.

In the end it was the shade of his mother that snapped Dastan back into himself, reminding him of the beliefs that his family had no doubt died upholding. Once more he became the voice of reason, advocating for the full truth before any decisions were made and he could see a visible change in his fellow Bastion’s because of it. All save Idris that is. Idris had lost more than most of them and his hatred for the Turned was so absolute there was no helping or changing his opinion. It was only because of their long held friendship that the two didn’t fall out, choosing instead to leave the politics within the King’s chamber where it belonged.

Things seemed to be mending for the entire Vampire race though there were some marked changes. Piotr was becoming increasingly hostile towards Gideon, much to the displeasure of everyone, and Delilah seemed to have grown cold towards their King as well. In return Gideon pulled away from just about everyone, only Cecilia it seemed could get through to their moody monarch. Dastan often found himself and Iris on the outskirts and though they were an unlikely trio they past the time amiably enough.

When the King disappeared it seemed as if all would fall apart and into ruin, his abrupt departure leaving a gaping void that sucked the life and light right out of the Capital. Delilah managed to rally them, hold them together but she was no Gideon. Dastan did his part to keep them and the race going, falling easily under her leadership but all the while he kept his eyes open and his ear to the ground. Being as understanding as he was, he couldn’t fault Gideon for leaving nor the reason behind it. The King hadn’t just lost his family but he had suffered through hours of death, feeling each and every passing as if it were his own. That kind of torment left a mark upon the soul that was no doubt difficult to adjust to.

For the next several thousand years the Bastion became busy with leading their fractured people and dispatching rogues who disobeyed the laws. It was heavy work but work was what kept the mind business and sharp. Finally though news of Gideon surfaced, for the King had found the culprit responsible for the Betrayal and dispensed a warrior’s justice. The Bastion became even more strained as the news hit, and Dastan found himself ever distrusting of Piotr. It was only his loyalty to Delilah that kept him from calling the other male out in public. Instead he and Idris and Iris ventured to watch their fellow Bastion closely lest the habits of the father become those of the son.

When it became apparent that Gideon wouldn’t be coming back to them voluntarily Delilah came forth and confessed that she had been tracking the wayward King. Her plans to bring him back were met with solid approval from all sectors save one though he was out voted. Following the rumors and with Iris’s superior tracking skills the Bastion finally cornered Gideon and demanded he take back his crown. He refused of course, and it was Delilah who offered him an ultimatum that the warrior was powerless to resist.

Dastan stood on the sidelines as Delilah and Gideon went blow for blow in a death match of the ages, their moves almost too fast for even an ancient vampire to follow. After what seemed like years Gideon conceded and once again put on the mantle of King of the Vampires. It’s now been several years since that battle and the Vampires are heeding the call of their people. After sorting out the loose ends Gideon decided to move the central Capital to a place in North America rumored for its varied population.

Evermore, Colorado wouldn’t have been Dastan’s first choice for a new Capital but it is proving most interesting. The Bastion known for his level headedness needs only a roof over his head and his King’s command to be happy, though this new city holds many distractions that might sooth his tattered heart.